A New Class of Trainer
by Mikhail Vorishnov
Summary: Looking at all the Trainer Classes, it seems that not one has a military-style theme to it. Knowing that the anime adaption will never, or at least rarely, will include military motifs, I thought of this one. Now, Team Plasma seem to be the only group with a military-motif, which isn't enough for the likes of me. The character is inspired by Aiden Pearce of Watch Dogs & Sam Fisher.


Amongst a crowd of blurred faces, one could hardly tell any figure apart, except for the occasional wierd-looking hair-styles or outrageous headgear. It was the perfect environment for those who relish in the concealment afforded by social stealth; using the environment to your advantage was always useful, but using the crowds to mask your movement was so much easier and rewarding. A capped figure, his outline distorted by a trenchcoat that hung in an almost ghost-like manner on his frame, contemplated on his situation. From a distance of a couple of meters, he eyed an old man, who was enjoying his time wandering the streets, the people surrounding him oblivious as to the nature of his possessions.

But it didn't fool the eyes of an experienced tracker. Swiftly, the shadowy figure whipped out a small device, about the size of a pack of playing cards, and discreetly pointed it in the direction of the old geezer. A brief second was all the device needed to read the details of the individual presented to it.

IDno.: 32967

Name: Wessel Kretcher

Age: 38

Badges: 16

PKMN:

Meganium

Misdreavus

Dratini

Arcanine

Battles: 105

Preferred Method: ARC-LEAD DRAT-NON MISD-SUPP MEGN-STALL

Physical fitness? He huffed. No need to use his Profiler to determine _that_. It did show him the very important details regarding this old, retired trainer. 16 badges; he probably participated in two pokemon leagues. One of his pokemon, Meganium, indicated that perhaps his starter was Chikorita, and his region of origin was Johto. Made logical sense; Misdreavus was a native to Johto as well, and an Arcanine could just as easily have been found there, too. Their roles to trainer were indicated by the abbreviations attached to their names: LEAD indicated that Arcanine was the the Mister Kretcher's first choice when it came to sudden battles. NON, on the other hand, meant that he was carrying Dratini as a non-combatant. Cute. SUPP, short for support, meant that his Misdreavus would use boosting or status-inflicting moves, and lastly, STALL was shorthand for stalling, so Meganium would most likely carry moves that would induce paralysis or sleep. Stryker didn't give a whit about these pokemon, but for one exception: Dratini.

It was rare enough in his client's home region that he was willing to pay one-grand for Dratini. A pointless pokemon for Stryker, but it was worth the money he'd reap later on. His Profiler had told him the important details, but some other things could not be accessed by the hand-held device: the number of battles was the official tally, meaning that random encounters were not included. The roles for each pokemon were displayed, but the moves were ambiguous; he'd have to use his own intuition on that subject.

Satisfied that he had almost everything in order, Stryker tailed his target; the briefing given to him three days prior told him that Wessel Kretcher was traveling, but not for the league this time around. He was just spending a few days in Hoenn, and was spotted in Petalburg, lounging around the city's streets; Ever so often he would pass by a quiet part of town, rarely eyed by passersby. If that was the route he took, Stryker would close in. If not, he would scrap the operation, and start again tomorrow; that was often the rule his Ops would follow.

As the Old Man neared the alleyway, Stryker pulled up a bandanna around his mouth, and drew a Suppressor Ball from a clip on his left shoulder. With his Profiler in the other hand, and his custom pokeball variant on his right, which he concealed behind his back, he moved forward with the speed and swiftness of a panther on the prowl. He moved from anything he considered sizable to hide his appearance for just a second, the dashed forward, ever closer. Once he was close enough, he depressed a small button on the ball in his hand, and let loose in the direction of his target.

Instead of the usual high-pitched electronic buzz accompanied by a bright light that you would expect from a standard pokeball, his customized Suppressor Ball, shaded in deep black and riddled with neatly placed holes, just let out a light shriek with some gray shades of light; it was audible, but the point was to muffle the distinct sound, to make one think that it was something else other than a pokeball. It obviously did its job, Stryker subconsciously thought, since the man hardly flinched at the noise. Through a headset, Stryker gave his Electrode an order just as it passed under the old man and slowly halting in front of him.

"Voltorb, Flash."

Wessel Krectcher was instantly blinded by the Move. He didn't know what to do, it all happened so suddenly, so unexpectedly. But his first instinct, after covering his eyes in pain, was to pull out his pokeball.

"Now, use Thunder Wave."

Just after pulling out his pokeball, his left hand still covering his eyes, he felt a sudden surge of pain; it was slight, but it seemed enough to render him unable to effectively perform locomotive actions. In the back of his mind, his Trainer-self told him he knew what this was. Thunder Wave. Was he being attacked by a wild pokemon? _No_, he decided, _no pokemon would systematically use these moves in order_. Whoever was attacking him played dirty. Fine by him. Using a tremendous amount of effort, he was still able to throw his ball and release his first choice for retaliation.

"Arcanine, Fire Spin!" He barely uttered out. His pseudo-legendary pokemon complied, and let out a stream of flame around him and his trainer. He knew it wouldn't adversely affect his trainer; he was used to this after all. It gave Kretcher a little more time to think of a way out of his predicament.

But Stryker wouldn't give him that chance. "Explosion."

A bright light enveloped Electrode, and in an instant, the explosion had caused itself a tremendous amount of damage, enough to take it out of action. Arcanine was equally unlucky, and the flames meant to cover them subsided as Arcanine fell to the ground, fainting from the Normal-Type move. But not before the dog unleashed a Flamethrower attack in the direction of his assailant.

There was no time for grief; Electrode had performed his task as a suicide-lead. Stryker quickly withdrew the ball-shaped pokemon, but then noticed a stream of orange/red flame headed in his direction. He expertly dodged it, but caught fire on the tails of his overcoat. Quickly dispatching the piece of clothing, he revealed what was underneath it: A Tactical Vest, holding various pokeballs festooned to it, holsters strategically placed on the left of his shoulder, right of his waist, and on his right leg, and armored pieces strapped all around him.

Kretcher finally regained his sense of sight, and what he saw before him was shocking, more so than the paralysis inflicted upon him. He was reluctant to believe the news pertaining to missing pokemon, the police stating that the abductions were probably an anomaly. That statement, though, was a cover up for what was believed to be the then increasing level of actions from a pokemon thief; the police deemed it unworthy of proclaiming the news to the public unless confirmed by official investigations. What stood before him was no thief, though. He was a Mercenary.

He was about to pull out another one of his pokemon, but a faint flash of light had suddenly coiled around him and had gone solid. The deep blue coloring...a Seviper. Unable to move, both from paralysis and the snake pokemon holding a tight grip around him, all he could do was watch as his attacker came forward from the shadows, his bulky figure slowly being illuminated from the flames that were slowly dying down around him.

"You...you can't do this! It-it isn't right!"

"Money talks." his raspy voice said in return. Using his profile to scan for the right pokeball, it was easy picking it out of Kretcher's belt.

"And that concludes our business. Good night, Wessel Kretcher." Seviper gave a swift flick of its tongue, completely paralyzing the old man, which finally made him pass out. Stryker put the man's arms around his neck, and lifted him towards a nearby bench, just right next to a lamp post. How..._tranquil_. Perfect. He recalled Seviper, then, after sweeping the immediate area with his eyes, and confirming that no one had seen him do the deed, he activated his microphone.

"Fearow, return."

The large aerial pokemon, which had been patrolling the area for the whole time, obediently landed in front of his trainer.

"Did you see anyone who might have taken interest in our little..._activity_?" The bird shook its head in the negative. In its mouth was another coat; he'd made preparations for this case of clothing as well. Content with his double checking, he withdrew his last pokemon for the night, and walked casually out of the area, removing the bandanna from the lower part of his face, and placing his pokeball variants back in their respective holsters. Except for one. As he passed through the alleyway entrance, he tipped his hat to a couple of kids passing by, with a small smile on his face.

"Now you kids be careful now, this ain't the time of night to be strolling about."

"Uh, sure thing mister; Will do, I guess", said a kid with a red cap on his head, accompanied by an Electric mouse on his shoulder.

"Alrighty then," Stryker put his hands in his pockets and continued on. When he was out of sight from anyone else, he took out his left hand, a pokeball grasped within his fingerless gloves.

"Another satisfied customer."


End file.
